When Fire Remembers

Chapter 14 - The Hunter and the Thief

Aksanaa was pinned to the ground by the very person she feared the most since the day of their pursuit—from the marketplace to the hideout. The day Runi was wounded. He was looking at her with fire in his cold blue eyes, but no flame. He leaned in closer, almost as if sniffing her, and for a split second, Aksanaa could have sworn (that) the ice in his gaze flickered.

Aksanaa decided to try her chances one last time and attempted to kick him again in the groin. But he was prepared this time. He (dodged Aksanaa’s knee) with one fluid motion of his leg and landed a harsh punch to her stomach that made her see stars for a moment. But Aksanaa was not an easy prey—(not the kind to go down silently). If she was going to die, she would make sure she took a piece of him with her, as a souvenir.

She jerked her hips upward, lifting him temporarily. He was heavy and hard to move, but apparently, he was caught off guard when Aksanaa (thrust her hips) into his lower abdomen. That moment of distraction was all she needed. She shifted her weight, rolled to the side, and threw him off.

Then she jumped to her feet and (drew the dagger). His dagger.

The insult was layered — she had stolen from a dragon, fled from him twice, and now had the audacity to draw his own weapon against him. And worst of all, she’d distracted him with a touch.

He lunged forward in a blur of fury, throwing another punch — this time aimed at her face.

But she ducked.

Fast.

Then it was her turn to strike. She rushed forward, dagger first, and aimed at his heart. That would’ve been poetic—(to carve out a dragon’s heart with his own blade). But it didn’t happen. But no such luck.

Daghan stepped aside like a dancer avoiding a clumsy partner. He caught her wrist mid-air, twisted it hard, then swept her own arm around her back. Before she could resist, she was locked to his chest, her spine pressed against solid muscle, his breath warm against her ear.

The dagger’s blade rested cold at her throat.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Any second now, she thought. Fire. Fury. Ash.

But the flames didn’t come.

So she dared to open one eye, just slightly, to see what was happening. He was still holding the dagger at her throat, but he hadn’t sliced yet.

Then his gruff voice came, low and seething:

“What… are you… doing… here?”

He paused after every word—like he was struggling to contain himself.

A little anger management wouldn’t hurt, Aksanaa thought. Not even for dragons.

Each word was measured, like he was holding back an explosion.

She wanted to laugh, or scream, or both. But she stayed still, breathing shallowly.

Not out of fear — but because something in him didn’t want to destroy her.

Not yet.

Daghan spoke, voice cold as steel.

“Did you come to steal again? Was the blade you took and dared to draw on me not enough?”

“I’m not here to steal, okay?” Aksanaa snapped. It wasn’t entirely a lie. She was also here for information.

“Then tell me—who sent you?” His tone remained composed, dangerously smooth.

“No one. I came of my own accord.”

“For what?”

“I was… curious. About the dragon’s castle,” she said with a shrug, trying to sound casual. “I’m human. Where I come from, we don’t exactly have palaces made of obsidian and fire.”

“And where do you come from?” he asked, his voice lowering.

“From the human world. Behind the gate. Garrad Dum,” she replied.

There was a pause. The dagger pressed harder against her throat. Aksanaa flinched.

“Whoa, easy lizard!” she said quickly. “That thing is sharp, you know?”

Daghan stayed silent.

Aksanaa kept talking, her mouth moving almost on instinct.

“I saw a map on your table. I lived in Nyvanor Forest with the Elves for nearly two years. If you’re searching for something, I might help. Ruins, old vaults, giant spider dens—I’ve heard their venom fetches a good price, and the eyes make decent potions.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “You need a guide, I’m your girl.”

“Garrad Dum,” he repeated under his breath.

“Yeah, creepy hellhole, right? No one goes there willingly, believe me. So… let’s lower the blade, lizard man, and talk like civilized people. What do you say?”

To her surprise, he removed the dagger and released her.

Big mistake.

She didn’t wait a second. She bolted for the door.

“Grön!” Daghan shouted, but Aksanaa didn’t look back. She dashed to the entrance, swung open the door—

—and slammed into what felt like a wall. She bounced backward and landed hard on her rear.

“Ow!” she groaned, rubbing her backside. “There was definitely no wall there before. Did you do some kind of magic trick, tiny dragon?”

A deep, booming voice shook the hallway.

“Boss! Everything alright?”

Aksanaa looked up—way up.

The wall she’d hit… wasn’t a wall.

It was a man.

Or rather, a mountain of one.

Her gaze climbed the towering figure. His massive frame, thick limbs, and disproportionately small head left no doubt.

A giant.

A real one.

She swallowed hard.

“Hold her,” Daghan ordered coolly.

Grön didn’t hesitate. He reached down, scooped Aksanaa off the ground like she weighed nothing, and locked her arms behind her back.

Daghan approached, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Grön held Aksanaa up like a sack of potatoes, presenting her as if she were a caught rabbit.

She struggled, but it was hopeless.

“Yes,” Daghan said softly, his eyes glowing with restrained amusement. “Now… where were we?”